


Float Away and Stay with Me

by runicmagitek



Category: Seiken Densetsu 3
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bittersweet, Cultural Differences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Implied Sexual Content, Intrigue, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: The world was saved at the cost of mana. Nevarl continues to struggle in the aftermath, but the promise of an alliance might help them thrive once more. Though what interests Hawkeye more than the political intrigue is whyhewas invited on the diplomatic trip to Laurent. Then again, it's an excuse to see the one he never stopped thinking about once more.
Relationships: Hawkeye & Jessica, Hawkeye/Riesz
Comments: 24
Kudos: 30
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/gifts).



> What was meant to be a short and sweet glimpse of some post-canon goodness _proceeded to blow up into this._ I swear my hand just slipped and kept going and here we are! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and many thanks for all the inspiration in your Yuletide letter. Happiest of holidays!

Nevarl sweltered in the high sun. The stone archway provided shade, though did little else for relief. Hawkeye lounged in that small alcove nestled close to the ceiling and peered out the opening. The vantage point overlooked the fortress and town before receding into the desert. The surroundings and heat hadn’t changed since his younger days. He wished more aspects stayed that way.

His eyes scanned the sprawl. Less merchant stands lined the bazaar. A thin crowd perused their wares. Fewer meandered the streets without pause to greet acquaintances or strangers. The rest either hid in the comforts of their home or had already departed months ago; a caravan gathered along the outskirts, packing a family’s belongings to head… somewhere. Did it matter? Anywhere was better than Nevarl and Hawkeye didn’t blame them for seeking haven elsewhere.

He sighed and slumped further into the archway, one knee bent to prop a limp arm. Each day was like the previous—another promise of progress, another household leaving. The world was saved, that was true, but at the cost of Mana. What water reserves they harvested evaporated with the magic. Flamekhan vowed Nevarl would flourish again; if their ancestors made it possible, then so could they. But for all the stubborn determination Flamekhan possessed, it didn’t override the truth—without a solution in the near future, their resources would dry up and Nevarl would transform into a crumbling badlands. All because they and everyone else relied on Mana.

But what other option did they have? Not the guild, but for _them_. The three of them. Back when their bodies ached from the constant travel and the only home they grew accustomed to was the company of each other, their allies. They didn’t know better, except the world didn’t deserve misery and destruction. And if not them, then who? They were an unlikely trio, marked by destiny or whatever people wanted to call it. Hawkeye preferred dumb luck, Kevin claimed his pride allowed no alternatives, and she….

She.

His pulse skipped. It always did.

She was the heart of the team. For every hardship they encountered, she did so with a balance of softness and tenacity Hawkeye didn’t believe existed until he met her. She smiled even when her words weighed down her soul. She held her head high with the hope that peace and order would be restored. She was compassionate and she was stubborn and she was sensitive and she was conscientious and she was genuine with every breath and motion.

She was everything Hawkeye wasn’t, yet everything he longed to protect, to cherish.

A slight chuckle graced his bittersweet smile. _A girl like that?_ he thought. _Not going to waste her time on a rogue, honorable or not. She_ _’s got bigger issues to deal with._ Hawkeye’s smile diminished. _We all do, now._

So long as they protected their memories of Mana, the tree would sprout anew. Not soon enough to solve Nevarl’s drought. Definitely not in Hawkeye’s lifetime, but eventually. And yet Hawkeye hadn’t ceased daydreaming of her since they parted ways.

_What are you doing now?_ He looked to the skies, as if the white tufts had an answer. _Are you well? Are you happy? Do you remember me?_ He held his breath as another thought blossomed to life. _Do you miss me like I miss you?_

“Hawkeye!”

The voice echoed into the domed ceiling, but it was the trill in the timbre which warranted his attention. Several stories below on the ground level stood Jessica. Nothing but a smudge of blue; he pictured her brows furrowed in his direction.

He leaned over to call back. “Jessica! Fancy seeing you here at this hour. Were there even fewer matters for the guild to discuss today?”

She perched both hands upon her hips. “Are you listening to yourself? This isn’t a joking matter!”

“I know.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “At the rate people keep skipping this joint, I’m surprised anyone’s left to complain about—”

“And _you_! This whole time you’re nowhere to be found and here you are, lounging where you _shouldn_ _’t_ be!”

He blinked. “What, am I not allowed to go where I please anymore?”

“You are ruining the tiles! Do you know how old they are?!”

Hawkeye gave a passing glance at his surroundings. Thousands upon thousands of painted, ceramic tiles coated the interior plaster. When they were kids, they used to stand in the middle of that domed room, spin around, and look up. It was like a kaleidoscope, the most beautiful occurrence Hawkeye ever witnessed. Not anymore, though.

“Uh….” He shrugged. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it?”

Jessica groaned. “Can you come down, please?”

“Why’s that?” Hawkeye stretched, crossing both arms behind his head. “Can chat perfectly fine like this.”

“ _Hawkeye_.”

“Besides, are _you_ truly worried about some silly tiles—” He narrowed his sights onto her. “—or is Flamekhan rubbing off on you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. From a distance, her body language was lost to him. He hoped her silence wasn’t due to discomfort.

“I just,” Jessica said, “worry you’re going to fall and I won’t be able to do anything.”

He remembered that, too. Amidst their spinning, Hawkeye had been the first to stumble and collapse. He ripped countless garments from his clumsiness as a child and earned his deftness and agility in exchange for those bruises and scars he collected. But before black and blue surfaced from his falls, there were open wounds and blood staining the precious mosaic floors.

And there was Jessica, dropping beside him to tend to his wounds before any healer found them. Even in her youth, she took well to Mana and wove it like a tailor manipulating a thread and needle. But she was like that—forever looking out for him when no one else did. He wasn’t _true_ family, after all. And Jessica? She welcomed him despite that. Whenever he fell, she couldn’t catch him, but she could restore him as if it never happened.

Then she vanished and it was his turn to restore things. They had, in a sense. Jessica was worth the sacrifice of Mana, but it also meant if he fell, only Hawkeye could save himself.

“Please, Hawkeye,” Jessica begged, “there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Need, not want. That wasn’t like her.

He vaulted to his feet, balancing on the narrow ledge. “If you insist.”

Two steps and Hawkeye leaped to a nearby pillar. Vibrant silk encircled the structure and ensured a safe descent. Hawkeye clung tight as he whirled to the ground level. Upon touching the floor, he released the silk, pivoted to Jessica, and smiled.

She huffed. “You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“Only sometimes!” He wiggled a finger at her for emphasis. It encouraged her to smile. “So, humor me with this dire discussion of yours.”

Jessica beckoned to Hawkeye as she spun, the bottom of her sapphire Anarkali Salwar suit lifting in the motion. Her feet carried her elsewhere and he followed.

They ambled into one of the many courtyards gracing the Fortress in the Sand. The open terrace welcomed the sunlight, though the sparse vegetation secluded to pots withered and faded. Hawkeye wrinkled his brow at the reminder.

“You’re aware that we are traveling soon, yes?” Jessica mentioned.

Hawkeye nodded as they walked the arcades pathway. “I might have caught word of that.”

“Might have?”

He shrugged. “The guards need to come up with better code words when referring to Flamekhan’s agenda.”

At least Jessica giggled. Flamekhan would have been quick to reprimand Hawkeye’s brazen disrespect towards secrecy. Although Hawkeye couldn’t recall the last time Flamekhan had spoken to him at all. Perhaps before Mana disappeared.

“How much do you know?” Jessica asked.

“That we need to secure allies if we wish to survive in this wasteland. Diplomacy and politicking aren’t my specialties, though I’m surprised that it’s taken this long to get anywhere with it.”

“The whole world is trying to heal, Hawkeye. Not just us.”

He sighed softly. “Fair enough. So that’s it, then? He’s heading somewhere to form a pact or treaty or whatever it is important people promise they’ll do?”

“An alliance,” she corrected him. “Without it, we—”

Jessica succumbed to an abrupt series of coughs. Her steps slowed and so did Hawkeye’s.

“You alright?” he asked gently, though both his words and expression screamed with worry.

She nodded, mouth covered. “I’m fine,” she insisted once the fit subsided.

Hawkeye squinted. “You’ve been saying that for some time now.”

“There’s less humidity in the air since Mana vanished. My throat’s just dry. Where was I?”

“Something about an alliance?”

“Right.” She resumed her pace. “If we don’t secure this, I’m not sure how much longer we can pretend to survive.”

“Shocker.”

“I’m serious!” She flailed a hand at him and Hawkeye evaded. “This is important for not just the guild, but Nevarl and future generations.” Jessica drew in an audible breath. “Which is why father wishes for _you_ to come along, as well.”

Laughter rumbled within Hawkeye’s core. “What’s this? He couldn’t tell me himself?”

Jessica shot him a look. “You know why.”

And he did. Even if Hawkeye was summoned for an official debriefing, the chance of him believing Flamekhan’s word was as sure as Mana returning by dawn. Not that he didn’t trust Flamekhan, but years spent in the shadows of the true noble thieves colored his view. After all that time, why would the guild wish for him, a nobody taken in under the leader’s wing, to play along now?

But Jessica was the closest notion to family he had. Her word was pure and to doubt it meant breaking more than trust.

“Well then.” Hawkeye inhaled, lengthening his breath while searching for the right words. “When do we leave? I can’t promise I have _that_ many fancy clothes for whatever reason—”

“We leave in a fortnight. Our supplies are unfortunately ill-fitted for this kind of travel.”

“And what kind is that? Is walking with our own two feet not enough?”

“For you, perhaps, but for the rest of us, this will be a first.”

“Wait… what are you getting at?”

“You’ll be a medium of sorts, both as a travel guide and—”

“Jessica.”

Hawkeye stepped in her path. They stood parallel and regarded each other with wide eyes.

“Where are we _going_?” he asked, more cautious than demanding.

She tilted her head, as if amused. “You didn’t glean that from the guards? You’re slacking, Hawkeye.” A beat, then, “We’re heading for Laurent.”

* * *

His lips were frozen, rendered to silence, but his mind swirled with a storm of thoughts. He followed Jessica’s lead and failed to absorb what additional information she provided. Their destination, however, said plenty.

He entered the assembly hall with others preparing for departure. The thieves explained their agenda once, twice, enough times to burn it into any sensible person’s brain. Something about a coronation. They were to be guests. The royal family invited them, after all, and while they were not royalty by a foreigner’s definition, the noble lineage in the guild ran deep.

Regardless, he drifted from room to room, allowing tailors to measure him for new outfits fit for kings. Spies debriefed him on the hierarchy of key contacts in Laurent. The only name which mattered was the one he hadn’t forgotten since she told him. Fine gems and embroidered silks wouldn’t catch her attention. He wasn’t royalty; just a thief protecting those he called family.

He dwelled on that, leaning against a balcony at sunset instead of sleeping before their morning departure. Whatever impression he made on her had already been done. They were allies in trying times. Nothing more. And now they were to reunite for… for what? To trade information so Nevarl could flourish again? What did Nevarl have that Laurent yearned for?

But the finer details of the arrangement faded in Hawkeye’s mind until all he focused on was her and her unwavering spirit and her kind smile and her gorgeous eyes.

“Riesz,” he murmured to the twilight sky. “So we’ll cross paths again. Hopefully for the better.”


	2. Chapter 2

His increased heart rate wasn’t due to the climb up the mountain range. The other twenty-odd people from Nevarl struggled with the arduous trek, panting and shuffling along the steep, narrow paths, but Hawkeye had traversed this land before. Each step brought him closer to their destination—closer to seeing her again.

The path leveled and the caravan caught their breath. The air was different in the mountains than in the desert; the arid wind was replaced with a constant torrent slicked with ice. Yet no frost touched the flourishing field sprawling before them. Flowers swayed in the breeze, an array of colors and petals unable to grow in the desert. A unique aroma permeated the air, reminding Hawkeye of the fruits no longer available in Nevarl thanks to Mana’s departure. He lost himself in the sensations, as did his companions, and almost missed the woman standing in the field.

He held his breath, recognizing the green regalia.

But it wasn’t her; a lieutenant—Liza, he recalled—served as a guide for the remainder of the trip. No different from his first visit, albeit with less sleep pollen. Hawkeye wondered in their ascent what magic still resided in the winds to shield Laurent from strangers. The climb alone would ward off plenty of unwanted travelers, but the more ambitious folk would persevere. What was left to defend the mystical kingdom, then?

The greenery and peaks parted to a castle nestled within. Dirt paths melded to meticulous cobblestone, which bled into the masonry comprising the entire kingdom. The mountains offered minimal space, but the skies were endless and thus each building stretched and dared to brush the clouds. Vertigo overcame Hawkeye upon staring at the towering structures.

Liza chuckled as he caught himself from tripping. “Not used to the heights?”

“Being up high myself doesn’t bother me,” he said, “but this?” He gestured with his chin to the castle. “This takes some getting used to.”

“I forget outsiders aren’t accustomed to spaces like Laurent.” She smiled. “Though I suppose if I visited a desert, I’d be out of sorts, as well.”

_You_ _’re not exactly missing much these days,_ he wanted to say, though swallowed instead.

More guards dressed in green surrounded the castle. Four women parted the doors to allow entry; for all the space within Nevarl’s fortress, it paled before the sheer height in everything built in Laurent. The entryway alone, while narrow, was double the height of the tallest balcony in Nevarl. Then again, that wasn’t saying much.

Hawkeye tore his sights from the ornate interior to scout for a familiar face. Dozens of soldiers greeted them in the main hall, yet he recognized none of them.

_Where are you?_ he thought.

He ignored the welcome committee, ignored the polite talks rehashing common knowledge—no one had fallen on _good_ times since the wake of Dark Majesty and Mana’s demise—and ignored idle chatter while servants brought them to the guest quarters. Flamekhan might have wanted him there as extra leverage in political schemes, be it as a spy or connection, but Hawkeye’s motives rested elsewhere. Even then, he knew nothing of either Flamekhan’s intentions or Riesz’s whereabouts. And the lack of knowledge in both frayed his nerves.

“Are you going to do that all night?” Jessica asked.

Hawkeye didn’t lift his head. “Do what?”

“You’re _pacing_ again. And have been since we arrived.”

Now he stopped.

Four others shared the guest room with Jessica and himself. They busied themselves with dressing in formal wear; as for Jessica, she stood in an elegant sari meant for grand festivals in Nevarl.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica asked.

“Nothing,” Hawkeye said, perhaps a touch too quickly.

She quirked her lips. “Then why are you still in your traveling gear? Aren’t you going to get ready?”

“Ready for what?”

She laughed and shook her head. “You, of all people, didn’t listen? Tonight is the young prince’s birthday.”

“Lucky him. Just in time for the coronation.”

“Which is _why_ we should be honored the kingdom of Laurent invited us during a time of celebration.”

“Sounds like a bunch of hoopla to sweeten whatever political nonsense they want us to agree to.”

“You do understand we have no other choice, right?” She approached Hawkeye, hands folded over her torso. “We make these sacrifices to ensure tomorrow is better.”

He sighed. “Then why waste time with parties?”

“Would you rather we dive into debates and compromises the minute we arrived?”

He offered no reply, not because festivities excited him more than hours of bickering, but because his priorities were elsewhere. Then again, either scenario suited him so long as he could see Riesz.

Wherever she was, anyways. Perhaps she was sent on a diplomatic mission herself. _She wouldn_ _’t do that,_ Hawkeye tried to reason. _She wouldn_ _’t leave her little brother at a time like this._ But her absence stung Hawkeye until breathing and standing became a chore.

“Come now.” Jessica slipped her hands into his to lead to his bed. “Let’s get you ready.”

A striking white kurta splayed over his mattress with matching jutti, the hems lined with gold thread. Sunlight filtered through a slim window and washed over the bed, transforming the silk to reveal an opalescent sheen and subtle, variegated flora patterns. Amethyst buttons closed at the collar, the same color as the pants.

Hawkeye’s fingertips ghosted the attire. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything this….”

“Exquisite?” Jessica offered.

“I was going to say gaudy, but sure, we’ll go with that.”

“It was _made_ for you, so it’s _meant_ to suit you.”

He scooped the clothing into his arms and stepped behind a dressing panel. “How am I expected to do anything in this?” Layers of his travel garb, one-by-one, emerged overhead to drape over the top. “No climbing, no sneaking, no fighting—”

“If you have to do _any_ of those tonight,” Jessica teased, “I’ll be shocked.”

Hawkeye groaned. “So what, then? Just stand pretty in a corner? Yeesh, you should’ve brought a statue in my image and dressed it up instead.”

“It won’t be that bad!” she said with a giggle. “Besides, this will give me an excuse to—”

Whatever she wished to say yielded to a series of coughs. Hawkeye froze. Those sharing the quarters asked if she was well and, once again, Jessica insisted she was fine. Hawkeye clenched his jaw and tried not to tear the fabric in his hands.

“Forgive me,” Jessica said eventually, a touch hoarse. “The altitude is doing me no favors.”

“You were saying?” he asked in hopes to distract them both.

“Oh! Tonight is a perfect reason for me to play with your hair.”

He peeked out from behind the panel. “Oh, so _that_ _’s_ what your angle is.”

Her eyes were elsewhere, but nothing hid that knowing smirk. “Well….” She shimmied her shoulders. “Need to have _something_ to be excited about.”

“Alright.” He ducked back to resume changing. “You win this time.”

A tiny squeal sounded from the other side along with soft, rapid clapping. Hawkeye smiled; at least one of them could enjoy the night.

After much groaning and squirming, Hawkeye emerged once more, now in his tailored outfit. Jessica sat on his bed, only to gasp when she caught sight of him.

“Hawkeye! You look magnificent!”

He grimaced and circled his arms forwards and backwards—or he tried to. “I don’t really _feel_ it, though.”

She smoothed out and tugged the fabric in various spots. “Not too snug, not too loose. It’s perfect.” A poignant finger snapped at his face. “And _no_ slouching.”

“I’m telling you,” he muttered, “a statue would’ve been—”

“Now then, let us work on your hair. Need to complete the look!”

Instead of protesting, he indulged Jessica, just like he always did. When she was happy, so was he. It was enough to ignore the twinge of anxiety festering in his chest.

* * *

Cool hues swirled in the sky; the sun retreated behind the mountains and night crept into the world. The chill present in the constant wind froze further, but massive hearths in every corner of the castle warmed the vicinity. Hawkeye wished to linger at each one he and the Nevarlan guests passed. The nights in the desert proved to be cold, but the icy quality within Laurent was different—as if it were alive.

More light flooded the main hall, where hundreds upon hundreds of candles nestled in metal chandeliers and every available nook and countertop. For every flickering flame, there were as many bodies amassing for the celebration of Prince Elliot’s birthday.

The group broke off; some ventured with Laurent’s council members to meander and chat while others perused the tables in hopes for a banquet. As for Hawkeye, he stood still, scouting the premise both out of habit and curiosity.

People swarmed the area and more filed in from outside, transforming the once vast hall into a cramped room. For all he knew, the entire kingdom of Laurent was invited. No additional soldiers were posted, still wearing their issued green, albeit with more decorative filigree than practical armor. They wielded spears, perhaps out of tradition than safety. Hawkeye patted his waist, where two knives usually dangled on his belt. Nothing was there and the missing weight unsettled him.

He almost laughed at himself. Jessica had a point; if he couldn’t scale buildings in his attire, then what purpose did a pair of knives have that evening? He couldn’t twirl one between his fingers to soothe his nerves. Instead, he toyed with the bottom of the twisted braid Jessica fashioned for him—hair swept over his scalp to the right and spilled over his shoulder in an elegant spiral, laced with white and gold ribbons and fastened with a hairpin resembling a mythical bird’s feather. He paused upon catching Jessica’s eye; she stood beside Flamekhan in the sweep distance and glared at him. Once he stopped and sighed, Jessica smiled and returned to center.

Hawkeye looked to her father, dressed in enough layers to suffocate a reasonable man. His turban added extra height to his already towering physique. His back faced Hawkeye. It had since they departed. Had Flamekhan bothered to discuss a damn thing with him? Hawkeye scoffed. For all the changes, the silence between them didn’t alleviate their tense relationship.

_Figures._ He pivoted and walked elsewhere. _You might have taken me in and raised me like your own, but I_ _’m always a step removed from your family._ He shook his head, pushing stubborn, loose locks out from his right eye. _I help save the world, help bring back Jessica_ _… and what thanks do I get? Just promises for a better future? Words aren’t enough anymore. We need to act if we want to do more than survive._

He paused amidst the crowd. Faces he didn’t recognize surrounded him. Laughter danced on the air, but no smile surfaced on his face, even for the sake of appearances. He witnessed travesties no amount of revelry could erase from memory. He didn’t wish to frolic with strangers, but to do _something_ to—

“Hawkeye?”

The voice almost eluded him—another squeak lost to the white noise of chatter. Part of him dismissed it as a trick his mind played. But then he found the origin.

He found _her_.

The festivities quieted. The sea of people seemingly parted. All he focused on was the woman standing opposite him.

He no longer needed to dream of her, yet what stood before him could have stepped out of one. She traded her armor for a surreal gown, layers of tulle and silk billowing like wisps of wind. Hundreds of tiny crystals inlaid in the fabric glimmered in the candlelight. The off-the-shoulder cut revealed pale skin, where she perched her spear; he yearned to sweep her into his arms and bury his face there.

But they had been allies in trying times, frustrating her on a good day when their ideals and habits conflicted. He wouldn’t blame her for keeping the distance between them.

And now she approached him and he almost forgot to breathe.

It was her, though. Those radiant blue eyes alone were proof. So was her blonde hair swept out of her face into a loose, braided chignon. And her usual emerald showcased on her forehead, albeit a smaller gem held by a circlet.

“Riesz,” he breathed out.

She smiled. The details eluded him, but her presence reminded him how divine she was when she smiled—and how often he had gone out of his way to make her do so when the world gave them every reason not to.

“It _is_ you.” She paused a foot away from him, taking a noticeable pass over his form. “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t come.”

Hawkeye raised a brow and smirked, reminiscent of when they first met in the prisons. “Have you?”

She ignored his teasing with a nod. “I had to make a special request to ensure the Nevarlan guests included you.”

“Wait.” Words failed him momentarily. “Did you just say _you_ requested to have me here?”

“Is that not alright?”

Hawkeye chuckled. “I guess it’s a surprise, that’s all.” She pouted ever-so slightly and he hoped his words were enough to return her smile. “Truth be told, I didn’t think I was going to find _you_ —in your hometown, for that matter.”

“Forgive me, I’ve been preoccupied with preparations. I would have met your caravan in the fields otherwise.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He dared to step closer, barely a foot remaining between them. Riesz didn’t flinch, her eyes set on him and no one else. “You’re here now.”

Her lips curled up. “So are you.”

Was this how she was when the world wasn’t endangered? The Riesz he grew accustomed to was a self-contained hurricane, prepared to protect everything she encountered. She balanced that weight on her shoulders, never asking for help. But her eyes betrayed her; the slightest waver in her gaze said plenty. And he offered his hand to aid her and she refused. Again and again. Until Faerie and the Mana Sword were taken from them.

Until all they had was each other.

The anxiety lifted from Riesz and left behind a glowing woman fit to be the Mana Goddess herself. He almost felt unworthy to stand before her. Besides, Hawkeye convinced himself she would borderline tolerate his presence, let alone welcome it.

Let alone _ask_ for him.

“Riesz,” he said softly, then paused. What was he to say? Where could he possibly _begin_? From the start when they met and his instant infatuation with her? Or the gradual trust and respect she earned from him? Or the eventual, smothering sentiment to protect her, which amplified his existing impulsive tendencies? Hawkeye licked his lips and found his voice. “You—”

“Princess!”

They broke their mutual gaze, much to Hawkeye’s dismay. Liza reached Riesz and bowed.

“We’re ready whenever you are,” she informed Riesz.

“Give me a moment,” Riesz replied. “I won’t be long.”

Liza glanced at Hawkeye before giving Riesz a knowing smile. “But of course.” She bowed out before Hawkeye could even comment.

“Forgive me,” Riesz said once Liza was gone, “but I have to attend to the ceremony shortly.”

“The ceremony?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s a tradition in Laurent—a symbol of adulthood.”

“Does it involve an endless buffet?”

Riesz breathed out a giggle. “There is food eventually, but not with this part.”

He almost continued his teasing, but stopped. In their travels, he often forgot that a _princess_ accompanied him and Kevin in their destined journey. A princess who was no stranger to combat, too. Of course she didn’t have time to chat with Hawkeye until they grew weary; she had her responsibilities, none of which included him.

“I won’t keep you, then,” he ended up saying.

Something flashed across her face—a hint of emotion tinting her joy. He blinked and it vanished.

“Thank you for understanding.” She bowed slightly to him. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Same to you.”

He longed to say more, but Riesz twirled her spear and parted ways. She acknowledged those who recognized her with a simple nod and continued to her destination. Riesz disappeared, yet her face burned into his mind. Hawkeye thought of the look in her eyes just then, desperate to piece together what she refused to breathe life to.

But he had seen that look before. Truth be told, it meant nothing to him the first time, perhaps because he couldn’t decipher it. The second time brought a skip in his heart and summoned endless thoughts of Riesz, both memories and daydreams alike.

She had looked to him like that once, back when they were victorious, back when she returned to Laurent, back when they said goodbye.

* * *

People proceeded to the throne room, their chatter falling to a whisper as they snaked through corridors. Silence overcame those entering the throne room; only their footsteps echoed into the high ceilings.

Hawkeye half hoped for food—not a single banquet table in sight—but his other wish came true.

By the throne stood Elliot, flanked by Riesz and Liza. He nodded and smiled to each attendee before handing them a paper lantern. The audience’s attention was on the young prince, save for Hawkeye’s. He drank in Riesz from afar, who stood proud like the graceful warrior she was. Did she have any clue as to how gorgeous she was? The whole room could look to her and he doubted she would have known why. But it was better this way—the distance between them. For many reasons.

Hawkeye nearly tripped over the stone steps leading to the platform Laurent’s royalty stood upon. He tore his attention from Riesz and looked to Elliot; the prince also donned vibrant green, fitted in a tunic similar to Hawkeye’s kurta, albeit looser and tiered. _Must be nice to move around in that,_ Hawkeye managed to keep to himself, only to remember it was a rare freedom one cherished when they were expected to become king.

Elliot grinned as Hawkeye stepped forward. “You’re Riesz’s friend!”

He chuckled. “Is that what she’s telling you?”

Hawkeye stole a quick glance at Riesz. She averted her gaze, a pink hue coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, that and more! She once said—”

His excitement crumbled. Elliot dissolved into a series of deep coughs. He covered his mouth with an arm, both Liza and Riesz dropping to his level to console him.

Even if he _was_ curious as to what Riesz had mentioned, Hawkeye couldn’t rid the sound of the coughing prince ringing in his ears.

The noise subsided and Elliot stood straighter. “My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” Hawkeye offered, unaware of what else to say to remedy the situation.

Elliot smiled and lifted a paper lantern to pass to Hawkeye. Flint and tinder wrapped in cheesecloth dangled from the bottom. Hawkeye cradled it, fearing if he looked at it wrong, it would tear.

“Blessings of the wind upon you,” Elliot recited, his cheerful demeanor swapped for a monotonous drawl.

More was said, but Hawkeye ignored it. He turned his attention to Riesz, mere feet away from her. She focused elsewhere, a hand gripping her spear while the other rested by her side. Forever vigilant, even during festivities. _How do you do it?_ he wondered. _Don_ _’t you ever tire of these traditions? Don’t you wish to break free and—_

The man behind Hawkeye cleared his throat. Snapping out of his reverie, Hawkeye fumbled with the paper lantern, partially bowed, and shuffled to the side. He followed those holding similar lanterns out of the throne room and onto one of the many balconies. Before emerging outside, Hawkeye peeked back; Riesz continued to stand beside her brother, though Hawkeye swore she tilted her head in his direction.

Or maybe he imagined it. With a sigh, he turned away and stepped out.

The cold air greeted him, as did hundreds of people amassed along the balconies. Several clouds blotted the skies, where the stars and a crescent moon glimmered. The night wasn’t much different from Nevarl; the chill in the atmosphere was similar, yet different, but that was all. Hawkeye stared into the void looming overhead. Mana might have been gone, but at least there was still some magic within natural phenomena.

Prying his eyes away, he looked to the paper lantern. Laurent’s emblem cut out sections in the paper. He ran a thumb over the flimsy object.

And those surrounding him clutched their lanterns like infants and whispered into them.

“May the prince rule with temperance and charity.”

“May Laurent prosper once more.”

“May Mana return to us and restore what is now lost.”

“May this era of peace live on forever.”

Each one freed their flint and tinder to strike against the candle’s wick. One-by-one, the paper lanterns glowed.

_A blessing of sorts?_ he wondered. _What good is that going to do?_

But there had been days when he found himself rambling with the intent that someone—anyone—would listen. Maybe even aid him. And he recalled what Faerie asked of him and Kevin and Riesz before she fell into a deep slumber—so long as they remembered, Mana would return.

Sometimes that was enough, knowing one believed in another.

His brows tented. _What do you want to believe, Riesz?_

He remembered the look on her face when they reunited not long ago. He remembered the way the light caught in her hair and her eyes, just as it had when they first met. He remembered the stories she would tell of her younger brother, less to boast about and more to remind herself he was still out there. He remembered the relief, after months of searching, to hear that Elliot was safely returned to Laurent.

Hawkeye lowered his head and whispered into the paper lantern, “May nothing ever bring misery to Laurent and its people.”

The flint and tinder scraped together. A spark ignited the small wick. Hawkeye lifted his gaze, waiting for a cue in the crowd for the next step. One person lifted their chin, then another. Craning his head, Hawkeye focused on the smaller, upper balcony.

Elliot emerged, followed by Riesz and Liza. They held lanterns of their own. Once a candle flickered in each one, they extended their hands and released the lanterns. The trio floated up, albeit slowly.

The crowd below lifted their arms and opened their hands. Each lantern floated into the night. Hawkeye stood in awe, overwhelmed from the spectacle before releasing his. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lanterns clustered together and meandered through the air. It was as if it was alive, as if it rode the wind to travel elsewhere. And the tiny lights blazed together and lit the sky on fire.

Hawkeye dared to claim it was more magnificent than the stars.

People ambled inside. The silence persisted, save for the wind playing in the lanterns. Hawkeye ignored the bodies brushing by him, focusing on the sky and the myriad lights replacing the stars and moon. He never registered the empty space around him, only that there was room for him to lean into the parapet.

The gentle footsteps eventually approaching him fell upon deaf ears.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

Wisps of jade, laurel, mint, and white eased into his peripheral view. Riesz tilted her head back and smiled.

“It’s a tradition in Laurent,” she explained. “We ask the wind for guidance and blessings and the wind has protected us all these years. When one comes of age to be considered an adult, we relinquish our hopes and dreams for the individual to ensure the wind grants its wisdom and power.”

“Where do they go?” Hawkeye asked. “The lanterns, that is.”

“Wherever the wind wishes to take it.” The wind gained momentum and played with her loose strands of hair framing her face. “I like to think our wishes have empowered the wind for centuries.”

“You still think that? Considering what’s happened?”

She nodded. “Who are we to abandon that which has inspired us for ages? Mana or no Mana, we hold onto these things. They remind us to savor what little time we have in this world.”

“Can’t argue with that.” He scooted closer, ignoring the skip in his heart. “Better than what we do in Nevarl.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, we honor coming-of-age nonsense with combat trials. One is not fully grown until they can best a herd of slimes. You’d think for a guild of thieves, we’d do something sneakier, but it doesn’t make for good spectating.”

She smirked at the idea. “We do something similar, as well, but it’s far before adulthood.”

Hawkeye snickered. “Geez, has Elliot already undergone that? Kid’s what? Ten? If that’s considered adulthood, I’d hate to be the six-year-old that needs to do an obstacle course in record time.”

She looked away, but he swore her smile fell to a flat line.

“We pride in ourselves as warriors,” she said, leaning her spear against the parapet. “But it’s more than just our bodies we must fine-tune. Our minds and hearts must be in balance. If we are swayed by one or the other in the slightest, we are susceptible to losing our path in life.”

She folded her arms on top of the parapet and stared into the darkness. “That was the hardest for me; when I left here and found how much of this world barely respects one of those aspects, never mind all three. And I wanted to protect the world, despite its flaws.”

“I admire that about you.”

“Being naive?”

“No. You wanted to help, even if those you helped aren’t shining examples of humanity. Besides, if we started picking who was worthy of saving, we wouldn’t be any better than Dark Majesty.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She paused. “Do you think about it?”

“About what?”

She brought her eyes to him and he loathed the pain which swirled in her blue irises. “About how you don’t regret what happened?”

Regret wasn’t a concept Hawkeye dwelled on. Grief and rage ebbed and flowed in his heart, but it passed like the sun rising and setting. Stewing in moments he longed to change, already resigned to memory, did him no good. But he was lying to himself if he claimed he never thought of different outcomes. Of course he wished for Mana to be restored and for Jessica to never be kidnapped and for Eagle and Bil and Ben to all be alive.

But he also knew what each would say to him, what they wished for _him_.

For when he looked to Riesz, he saw someone he wouldn’t have met if not for their circumstances. The more time he spent beside her, the more he contemplated their place in the world and if they would have found each other in peaceful times.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted a life without ever knowing Riesz.

“Yeah,” he said, his answer a gentle exhale. “I do.”

Her shoulders slid up her neck. “I expected as much from you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Her focus faded, as if lost in thought. “No. Not at all.” Another pause. “It’s comforting, actually.”

“How so?”

Riesz gripped her spear, smoothing fingers up and down the shaft. “It’s nice to have someone around who isn’t worried about every passing second. It reminds me to stop and breathe—to enjoy this precious life.” Her lips curled down. “We don’t know how lucky we are to be alive and yet I don’t wish to reverse my father’s death or the turmoil which followed or—”

She never finished. Her head bowed and her knuckles whitened around her spear.

“Riesz?” he murmured, stepping closer, albeit cautious. “Are you—”

“I used to think the wind had cursed me when I met you—that it was my punishment for not saving father or Elliot. But the truth is I didn’t know how to react to someone who contradicted everything I knew. I used to impatiently await the day we would part ways, but I’ve found myself more often than not loathing the idea of never meeting you.”

He imagined that. She didn’t utter those words. Why would she? Not once had Riesz given him the impression she viewed him as more than an ally. Her compassion stretched to strangers and her goals didn’t include a thief. Desperately ignoring his heart racing in his throat, Hawkeye coughed up words and hoped they aligned with his scrabbled thoughts.

“But why? Why now? Why _me_? I get it—I’m not an ideal poster child for Laurent, but….” He sighed, sweeping hair out of his eye. “I figured I was a thorn in your side.”

“You were.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

“And because of that,” Riesz continued, “I don’t believe I would have survived what we endured without you.”

Laughter and music echoed from within the castle. The wind danced between them. Her gown glittered in the limited light. There was peace and beauty, but Riesz stood with glossy eyes situated on the floor. His chest tightened, recalling the long nights when she sat at the edge of her rented bed and opted to curl into herself and quietly weep than rest. He should have comforted her, then. He should have tried, knowing in his heart it was the right thing to do, even if it meant Riesz pushing him away forever. Instead, he rolled over and wished something else would dry her tears and brighten her face.

But that was then. And there was no peril dooming the world and there was no inn with three separate beds and there was no death or Mana and there was no reason to stand and witness her misery.

Hawkeye stepped forward. The warmth alone lifted Riesz’s head, but it was the fingers curling under her chin which produced the light gasp.

“We don’t need to survive, anymore,” Hawkeye whispered. “We can live, now—however we please.”

He inched closer. A single thumb skimmed her jawline and traced the outer corner of her lip. Their eyes locked, unblinking. If Mana still existed, maybe time froze. And while his motions stilled, his breaths hitched and his heart pumped and his thoughts screamed everything he longed to utter to her. She whispered his name, her voice curing the spell and freeing his limbs. He stepped into her and she reciprocated. Their noses bumped and her eyes fell shut.

“Princess?”

Riesz gasped, jerking away and wielding her spear out of protection instead of habit. As for Hawkeye, his hand dropped from her and his eyes wandered to whoever felt the need to interrupt their moment.

Liza bowed in the doorway, a silhouette thanks to the interior lights, but in the darkness, Hawkeye found blush on her cheeks.

“What is it?” Riesz asked.

“Your brother asked for you. He didn’t want to cut his cake without you.”

“But of course. I will be there in a moment.”

Liza bowed again, lingering on Hawkeye before she turned inside.

Riesz sighed and slumped. Hawkeye couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Duty calls, right?” he teased her. “I’ll leave you to conquer that cake—”

“Hawkeye.”

She regained her posture, though she clutched her spear as a child did with a toy. He raised a brow and waited.

“Do you....” She struggled to maintain eye contact. “Do you know why you’re here?”

He blinked. “I mean... I was invited? By you, apparently? To toss pretty lanterns into the sky and now eat cake?”

She huffed. Well, there was that thorn in her side again.

“I suppose that’s a good sign. If no one told you, then no one broke secrecy.”

“Told me... what exactly?” When she didn’t answer, Hawkeye rubbed his neck. “Don’t tell me the cake is off-limits to foreigners or something.”

She chuckled and Hawkeye deemed that a success.

“Do you remember the path to the highest point in the castle?”

“ _This_ castle? Vaguely. Been a while since we came here together and I didn’t have time to snoop around.” She scrunched her brows together and he flashed a grinned. “Easy, princess. I’m kidding.”

Releasing one hand from her spear, Riesz rested a soft palm on his shoulder. Despite the fabric separating their skin, the heat from the mere touch melted into him.

“The side staircase outside of the throne room,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Meet me there in ten minutes. We need to discuss these matters—alone.”

She gave no time for him to respond; Riesz pivoted and returned to the thriving revelry. By then, Hawkeye had vanished from the balcony, as if he was never there to begin with.


	3. Chapter 3

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

Hawkeye parted from the sliver of an opening in the wall—Laurent’s idea of windows wouldn’t make it in Nevarl—and looked to Riesz. She emerged from the bottom of the spiral staircase, dressed in her gown and armed with her spear. Even in the minimal light, every precious gem paled before her and the glimmering spectacle she was.

“You?” He pushed himself off his perch and unfolded his arms. “Never.”

She smiled and hugged her spear to her chest. “Then shall we?”

He gestured to the countless stairs awaiting their ascent. “After you.”

The ambiance of the festivities thrummed in the mortar, but they rose higher and the vibrations quieted and only their footsteps echoed. At the top and past a set of stairs, they stepped out into a clearing, accompanied by other keeps. The wind was wild there. Colder, even. Hawkeye wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill while Riesz strode by. She was like an elemental, gliding with the current as her gown billowed and shimmered. After rummaging her pockets—“ _Pockets_?!” Hawkeye chided. “I can barely move my arms in this damn thing and you have _pockets_?!”—Riesz unearth a small object.

Hawkeye squinted and recognized it. “So you kept it?”

“Of course,” she said, approaching the parapet. “It didn’t feel right to return it. Besides—” Both hands clasped the whirling drum and lifted it overhead. “—she lives here.”

She spun the drum, wooden beads striking the surface. The sound echoed around them. In the quiet lull, Hawkeye joined her side and scouted the skies.

He blinked and missed the large shadow eclipsing the moon, but the delightful chirp zooming their way was undeniable. Massive wings beat against the current. Even in the starlight, there was no mistaking the furry creature landing behind them.

“Flammie!” Riesz stashed the drum and rushed to meet the dragon. “Thank you for coming.”

Flammie smiled—or at least made an expression similar to the human equivalent—and leaned into Riesz while she scratched her neck. Then she locked onto Hawkeye and her pupils enlarged. More chirps gushed forth before she bounded over to Hawkeye.

He raised open hands and shuffled backwards. “Whoa whoa _whoa_!” He managed to maintain his balance once Flammie pounced him. “Yeesh! Easy, girl!” But she cooed and nuzzled into him despite her overwhelming size. Hawkeye smiled and stroked the fur between her ears. “Yeah, missed you, too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Flammie perked up her ears and chirped. “About what? Six months?”

“Eight months,” Riesz corrected him, unable to restrain her giggles.

“Damn, what do I know?” One last ruffle and he tried to peer past Flammie to catch Riesz’s attention. “So… I have a feeling you didn’t summon Flammie just to snuggle and keep warm.” _Honestly, you could_ _’ve just asked—_

Riesz whistled, the sound akin to a songbird. Flammie ceased her actions and trotted to Riesz’s side.

“We need to discuss matters in private,” she explained. “The winds may carry our voices to those who should not listen.”

“But isn’t that the case _anywhere_ in this mountain range?”

“Perhaps.”

With a running jump, Riesz vaulted herself onto Flammie’s back. Her gown lifted, revealing knee-high combat boots underneath. Hawkeye bit back a smirk at that detail. _Wouldn_ _’t expect any less from you._

“I’d like to not take any chances,” Riesz said once situated on Flammie, laying her spear horizontal in her lap. Then she extended her hand to Hawkeye. “We’ll go somewhere no one will suspect.”

Smiling, Hawkeye followed her lead and scaled Flammie in two steps, latching onto Riesz’s hand halfway for stability. Calloused skin smoothed over his, but it was the tenderness there which surprised him—something not customary for a warrior of any caliber. But Riesz wasn’t an ordinary warrior.

Yet another reason he couldn’t rid her from his thoughts.

“Are you ready?” she asked, peeking over her shoulder to double-check.

Hawkeye straddled Flammie and scooted closer to Riesz. “Always.”

She flashed a small smile before returning to center. Another whistle and Flammie took flight with a joyful trill.

Laurent shrank beneath them. Wind whipped by and tousled Hawkeye’s no longer immaculate braid. He hitched his breath and clung to the tufts of fur. And to think he was previously used to Flammie’s flights. Now he was like a child learning his balance several stories above the ground. But Riesz was there. She wouldn’t let him fall, would she? Just as he refused to allow any harm to befall her.

She whistled, crisper and louder than before. Flammie stretched her wings and banked left. Circling a mountain peak, she glided to a grassy patch within the jagged formation. The wind continued to dominate the atmosphere when they landed. Hawkeye shivered and jumped down with Riesz.

“This is it?” he asked.

“Mmm.” Riesz scritched under Flammie’s chin in thanks. “I used to come here when I was younger, back when my mother passed.”

His eyes widened. “All by yourself?”

She nodded. “I was a formidable warrior by then.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle.”

“Something like that. I like it here, though. No one thought to search here when I went missing.”

“Well, Flammie knows.”

Riesz smiled. “She knows more than most.”

The dragon cooed and wiggled in response. With a final pat, Riesz wandered to the edge of the cliff. She plopped down, tucking her legs beneath her and resting her spear on her shoulder. Upon turning back to Hawkeye, she lifted her brows.

“Are you alright?”

He had yet to move since dismounting Flammie, arms enveloping his shivering body. “I’m great!” he said, though the chatter in his teeth deemed otherwise.

“Please forgive me,” Riesz said. “I should know better. Foreigners don’t fair well in this wind.”

“Nah, it’s not that bad.” He shuffled to the ledge. “Desert nights are notorious for freezing those who are unprepared. It’s just—” He borderline collapsed beside Riesz, all grace apparently forgotten in Laurent. “—not as windy. Not like this, anyways.”

Riesz quirked her lips then whistled, patting the space behind them. Flammie ceased her preening and perked up with a _brrp_. In seconds, she trotted to the two and curled up around them.

“Better?” Riesz asked, leaning into Flammie’s warm, furry body.

Hawkeye did the same. After several breaths, the trembles living in his bones stopped and the sensation in his fingertips returned.

“Much,” he sighed out. Another breath and he gazed at Riesz. “So.”

“Yes?”

“This private matter you wanted to discuss.”

The hint of a smile faded from her lips. She evaded his eyes.

“Can I ask you something, Hawkeye?”

Her hands fidgeted in her lap, toying with the crystals sewn into her gown. The rise and fall of her chest quickened. She never swept the fallen wisps of hair out of her eyes.

“Anything,” he said and meant it.

She chewed her lower lip briefly. “After we defeated Dark Majesty… after Mana was lost… did anything change for you?”

_I didn_ _’t want to say goodbye to you._

Inhaling, Hawkeye plucked his more logical thoughts and set them free. “Nevarl’s been struggling, but you must know that; it’s why we’re here. The drought, the people leaving in droves because of it… we don’t know how to survive without Mana. Our ancestors had once thrived, turned the land into an oasis. We want that again. I’m not sure what Laurent can offer, but if you and the rest have been able to reside in the mountain, then maybe we can learn something, yeah? We can help each other.”

He waited for the tension to leave her body. He wished he could blame the wind on her posture.

“Was there anything else?” Riesz asked. “Perhaps not for you, but those around you?”

Hawkeye considered the question. He furrowed his brow and dove to the depths of his mind. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. I’ve been kept in the dark for most affairs. I was quite surprised when I was told my presence for this trip was mandatory.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “It was.”

Dipping forward to catch her eyes, Hawkeye struggled to smile. “What about you, Riesz? Anything new for you?”

Silence lingered between them. The wind rolled through the night sky. He feared his question was caught by a swift breeze. But Riesz eventually turned to face him.

“Elliot is dying,” was all she said.

The cold faded and numbness remained. Riesz could have shoved Hawkeye off the cliff and the maddening descent would have been kinder than the words she uttered.

Elliot. Her dear, younger brother. The heir to Laurent’s throne. The one she fought for since he met her. Every waking moment was fueled by the desire to secure her brother’s safety and return him home. She wept for him, spilled blood for him.

And now this.

“Wha—” Hawkeye licked his lips and swallowed hard, yet it didn’t make the words come easier. “How… how do you—”

“It must have been a couple of months after he came home.” Riesz broke eye contact and stared at her lap. “He’s been unwell. A set of stairs tires him out. His temperature will spike one day and drop the next. And that cough.” She winced and rubbed her throat. “Not a day passes without it.”

Hawkeye blinked. He heard it before Elliot bestowed the paper lantern to him. But he also heard it before even then.

Before Laurent. Before—

He clamped a hand over his mouth to subdue whatever nausea wished to spew forth. Shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, he wished to wake in the inns they frequented, each with enough beds for the three of them. It had to be a nightmare. None of this was real or true or—

“The priestess has done all she can to relieve Elliot,” Riesz continued. “Nothing helps.”

“And you’re certain he will die?”

Eventually, Riesz nodded. He wasn’t sure which he loathed more: her answer or her hesitation.

“I can’t help but think the lack of Mana has to do with this,” Riesz said. “Nothing confirms it, but… what else could it be?”

Her gaze settled on him, welling with tears. He longed to draw her in and kiss away every last one.

“But his birthday,” Hawkeye mused out loud. “The coming-of-age festival. Isn’t—”

“He’s not old enough for it.” She clung to the skirt of her gown and bit her lip hard. “We did it because we feared he wouldn’t live to see the true date—four years from now.”

He leaned in closer to whisper, even though it was the two of them and a fluffy dragon. “Who else knows, Riesz?”

“Liza and her direct reports,” she said after a deep breath. “The royal council. No one else. We don’t want the people to be alarmed.”

“If I was a betting man, which I am, I’d guess people are already concerned if they went through this tradition without him being the proper—”

“I didn’t know what else to do!”

Riesz smacked a hand over her mouth to smother the sob that followed. Hawkeye slipped closer and rested a hand on her bare shoulder. She didn’t shove him away. He almost wished she did if it made her feel better.

“I thought if he did something,” she said after a moment, “and the wind listened to everyone’s wishes, then he could be saved. But even the wind has changed. What Mana lived in it before is gone. People believe it will still protect us, listen to us… but I fear that might not be the case any longer. Laurent has isolated itself from the world for years and without the wind, we are hopeless.”

He brought another hand to her face and flicked away the few tears not caught in her lashes.

“I just wanted our lives to return to normal. I feel all we’ve done was make matters worse.” Her blue eyes latched onto Hawkeye’s. “Did we do anything right?” Another hiccup and she added, “Am I a monster for causing this? If I hadn’t let Elliot out of my sight that day—”

“Riesz, don’t talk like that. How were we to know what would become of any of this? Even if Mana survived, we couldn’t bring back our loved ones. We do what we can, now. I’m sure Elliot wouldn’t want you to be crying right, either.”

She managed to chuckle and placed her hand over Hawkeye’s. “He’d tell me tonight is a time for celebration, for happiness, and _lots_ of cake.”

“See?” He smiled and his voice cracked. “He knows what you’ve been through just for him. He’s lucky to have a big sis like you to look out for him. And you still are and I know you will continue to do so until….”

“Hawkeye?” She leaned closer. “You’re crying.”

He brought the back of his free hand to his face to rub away any sign of tears. “I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload this on you—”

“No, it’s not you. It’s—” The reminder brought another fresh wave of tears to spill down his cheeks. “Jessica.”

Riesz froze. Not a puff of visible breath in the cold air surfaced.

“She’s been coughing on and off since we recovered her, too. She keeps telling me it’s nothing to worry about, but… I feel like she’s been hiding it and she’s unable to suppress it lately, because—” He groaned and shook his head. “Or is it just a coincidence? Dark Majesty took them both from us, but Jessica isn’t going to die, is she?”

“Hawkeye,” she said softly, “I wish I knew. Maybe we could have the priestess look at—”

“Flamekhan has been grooming her in preparation to take his role when he eventually passes. The guy’s not getting any younger, that’s for sure. But if not Jessica, then who?” He brought his attention to Riesz. “And if the coronation is around the corner and Elliot is dying, then—”

“The coronation was never for Elliot.”

He flinched at the blunt truth. “What?”

“Forgive me—we didn’t intend to mislead you or the rest of Nevarl, but these matters have been sworn to secrecy.”

“Then when _were_ you and everyone else planning to mention something?”

“Tomorrow, during the council assembly. We were to unveil this along with a proposal.” She sat up a little taller. “The intention is for me to inherit the throne.”

“So you’ll be queen,” Hawkeye breathed out.

“Queen Captain,” she corrected him with a short-lived smirk. “I wouldn’t be the first, either. It runs in my family, or so I hear.”

“Then why is this a secret? Why are we here during the— _your_ coronation? And the birthday festivities with Elliot? Why would anyone go about that and think it’s fine? And what proposal is Laurent going to offer tomorrow—”

Riesz lifted his hand from her shoulder and cupped it to her chest. Tears dared to freeze on her smiling face. He relished the warmth in her palms and her frantic heart nearly mirroring his own.

“I’m old enough where the question of a successor comes into play,” Riesz said. “The council was ready to send letters to potential suitors, but….” She rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “I said if I had the choice, I would pick you.”

The words didn’t register immediately. Once they did, his brain broke.

Riesz. She was to become queen. And a queen required a royal heir. Which meant she needed—

Blush seared his skin, flooding to his toes.

She… she wanted him— _him_ , of _all_ people—to stay beside her.

Riesz spoke more on the matter, though Hawkeye caught bits and pieces; marriage not only promised an extension of royal blood, but also an alliance. Nevarl and Laurent could both grow thanks to their joint efforts. There was more, but he focused on one flaw in this grand scheme.

“I can’t,” he coughed up.

He already hated his response and how it twisted Riesz’s features.

“I apologize,” she said slowly. “It was rude of me to assume you would want any of—”

“Are you kidding me right now?” He tried to laugh, but the sound intermixed with a weak sob. “You don’t need to twist my arm to agree to any of this.”

“Then… what’s the matter?”

“The matter is we stand on opposite ends of the spectrum. You’re valiant and I’m devious. You’re cautious and I’m impulsive. You’re compassionate and I’m selfish.” He bumped foreheads with her and closed his eyes. “You’re beautiful… and I don’t know if I’ll ever compare to you. You are the wind itself, where I’m better suited as a flame. But it doesn’t matter.” He squeezed her hand. “Because you’re royalty and I’m not. Not by Laurent’s or Nevarl’s standards.”

He pried his eyes opened. The gradual realization in her gaze was worse than a knife lodged between his ribs.

“You….” Riesz shook her head, pulling away from Hawkeye. “There must be a mistake.”

“There isn’t.”

“But your family in Nevarl—”

“Flamekhan took me in when I was an infant. He raised me as his own, but I’m not; I’m just a stranger pretending to fit in. And no amount of playing the role changes the truth—I’m not of noble blood, Riesz.” He cursed under his breath and clenched his jaw. “Trust me, I’d have zero reluctance otherwise.”

“You mean that?”

More painful laughter erupted from him. “Oh, this is rich. Yes, Riesz! I mean it! I’ll scream it from the highest point in Laurent if that’s what it will take for you to believe me.” He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just….” Riesz stewed in the silence. “I used to think you hated me.”

“ _Me_? Hate _you_?”

“Mmm. I convinced myself I was a silly girl for you to toy with. I worried I stood in your way often. You were always smiling and never taking anything seriously and quick to act, only to regret it later.”

“For the record, I have no regrets.”

“All those days I spent frustrated or anxious with you,” Riesz continued, “I realized it was because I admired you. You embodied everything I was taught not to do and you lived like a roaring pyre. You’re intoxicating to be around, you know that? I thought you were trying to trick me. I doubted my heart when it came to my desires, but it was my heart that spurred me to save Elliot. I didn’t realize until it was too late that it was something else.”

“Too late? When?”

Riesz drew in a deep breath. “When you left. When we were done fighting Dark Majesty and we said goodbye.”

That look in her eyes. He remembered now.

And she looked to him no different than she had then.

“Riesz,” he murmured, his voice a blend of trembles and boldness, “I never hated you. How could I?”

Sadness tinted her soft laughter. “I’m such a fool, aren’t I? First I convince myself you want nothing to do with me, then I believe we could be together by marriage.”

“You’re _far_ from a fool. Trust me.”

“Then what now? Do I marry someone I refuse to give my heart to? The alliance with Nevarl… I don’t know if—”

“Hey, none of that.” Hawkeye cupped her face. “We’ll find a way.”

“How?”

“Pfff, I don’t know, but we’ll make it up as we go along. I _do_ know it’s common for leaders in Nevarl to take multiple consorts—”

“Hawkeye.”

“—and I _am_ pretty good at sneaking in and out of tall buildings, if I do say so myself—”

“You’re unbelievable. Yet I’m not surprised.”

“Too much?”

“No.” She shook her head before sinking into one of his palms. “It’s perfect. Just like you. Just as I expected.”

He damned himself for never approaching her before now. All those nights Kevin didn’t sleep in the inn because of a full moon, Hawkeye could have spent it with Riesz. He kissed those opportunities goodbye for the sake of preserving… what? Dignity? A sense of decorum or whatever noble folk prattled about? All because his blood didn’t align with hers.

All because they lived parallel to one another, doomed to never intersect.

But Riesz gazed upon him like none of that mattered. Maybe they could find a way. Maybe it was a recipe for their downfall, but the thought of living without her gutted him.

A soft glow warmed her features. As it brightened, Riesz blinked and swept her sights to the cliff. Hawkeye followed, then stared in awe.

Around the mountain peak floated the countless paper lanterns. The lights persisted and the wind brought them to the cliff.

“The lanterns,” Riesz murmured.

“Surprised they made it this far,” Hawkeye added.

“It’s a blessing.”

He raised a brow. “Come again?”

“This is no coincidence. The wind heard our pleas and wishes, then answered in kind.”

“But—” He caught himself before he tripped into territory beyond him. Still, how the wind could do _any_ of this, especially without Mana, eluded Hawkeye. “They’re just floating.”

“They floated to _us_.”

“But there’s no Mana—”

“Do you remember what Faerie said?” Riesz held his hand to her cheek, fingertips idly circling his skin. “So long as we remember, then Mana can survive. And when I look at you, how can I ever forget a second of those days spent with you?”

The lanterns floated overhead. Flammie chirped and bounced a few off her nose. Hawkeye couldn’t pry his sights from Riesz, entranced with the warm hues drifting over her face and body to contrast the dark shadows.

“I never want to forget,” she whispered. “Not you, not what happened, none of it. That’s enough, don’t you think?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah. I think it is.”

She tugged him closer, though he was already easing into her. Hawkeye closed his eyes once their noses brushed. A breath caught in Riesz’s throat, silenced as their lips met.

He couldn’t lie; he wondered about such an occurrence countless times. But some thoughts were better reserved for daydreams to pass the time. And Riesz was a pleasant distraction while the world crumbled to chaos and destruction. But there was peace and their loved ones were dying and revelry continued without them and Hawkeye wanted nothing but those lips burning a new memory into him.

Their lips moved gently into each other. Even their fingers gingerly traversed exposed skin and teased loose hair, fearing a single, wrong move would shatter the illusion. Until then, Hawkeye grew drunk from her kisses, from the subtle crispness on her tongue, from the sweet scent permeating her hair, from the soft, yet titillating coo she made between motions, from the warmth and dreams they shared of a life they could never have, but yearned for nonetheless.

He wanted to cradle her, to protect her. He wanted to kiss elsewhere until new sounds escaped her lips. He wanted to tangle himself up in her until his skin rubbed raw and the bitter cold gnawed his bones. He wanted her smile, her laughter, her undying loyalty and honesty, her stubborn kindness, her flaws and perfections, everything.

He kissed her and remembered the warrior princess in the dungeons. He kissed her and remembered meeting her not long ago in the castle and how her face lit up and how she approached _him_. He kissed her and imagined a life where they could simply exist together.

And then he kissed her and forgot the world and all its problems. And he wanted to stay there, somewhere safe and familiar. She swept her arms around his neck and kept him close. They smiled into one another and he knew the feeling was mutual.

The wind shifted currents, the paper lanterns floated into the clouds looming below, and the glow faded from the night.

* * *

Flammie soared over the castle, stretching her wings to glide down to the tallest keep. Her wings beat rapidly for stability before she touched down. Hawkeye was the first to dismount.

“And here we are.” He turned to Riesz and extended his hand. “Home sweet home. Well, your home, anyways.”

She chuckled and accepted his aid, jumping down to join him. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“I appreciate it.” Hawkeye kissed her knuckles, then looked to Flammie. “Thanks again for the lift!”

Flammie butted her head against Hawkeye, nearly knocking him off his feet to snuggle. Riesz’s laughter filled the air and Hawkeye did his best to satiate Flammie’s need for attention.

“Until next time,” Riesz told the fluffy dragon. “Thank you.”

That smile of hers returned as she cooed in reply. Then Flammie unfurled her wings and soared.

“Never thought I’d fly on a dragon again,” Hawkeye mused, retracing his steps with Riesz.

“I never thought many things would happen again.” She craned her head back amidst scaling the spiral staircase once more. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Hawkeye smiled, but his heart ached with the reminder of what they spoke of at her secret location. It didn’t dissuade him, however, from following Riesz down the stairs and through the winding corridors.

The festivities died long before they returned. Sparse candlelight illuminated the empty castle, their footsteps echoing into the high ceilings. He tried to recall the path to the guest quarters, but Riesz didn’t relinquish his hand.

When she ceased walking, so did he. Hawkeye scanned the premise. The hallway was unknown to him.

“Well,” Riesz said, slowly turning to him, “I suppose this is where we part ways again.”

“Only for the night, though,” he reminded her. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “I wish that was the case every morning.”

“Riesz.” He shuffled closer, inches left between them. “I meant it when I said we’d make things work.”

“I know. But still.”

“Hey.”

With his free hand, he lifted her face to meet his. Faint moonlight and starlight washed over the corridor and highlighted her features.

“None of this may be perfect,” Hawkeye whispered, “but that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

Her lips quirked. “That’s just like you—always acting outside of what is expected of you.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, story of my life.”

The silence strangled him, but he welcomed it if it meant never saying farewell.

“I’ve been thinking,” Riesz said.

“Oh?”

“You mentioned this being my home.” She scanned their surroundings. “But tonight… tonight I’ve felt more at home with you than I have anywhere else in the past eight months.”

“Riesz—”

She clutched both his hands and held them to her beating heart. “Please, don’t go. Not yet.”

He licked his lips. Inhaling deep, he stepped into her. Riesz never flinched, not when he brushed his lips over her shoulder, not when he kissed the curve of her neck, and not when he hovered over her own lips.

“Stay,” was all she asked of him.

Hawkeye stifled his laughter. “Isn’t that breaking some ancient code to spend a night with a queen-to-be before her coronation?”

He swore Riesz smirked against his lips. “When has that ever stopped you?”

He replied with a kiss, harder and hungrier than before. Their bodies met. Riesz gasped as he crushed her against the door, only to coo shortly after. He threaded fingers through her hair and loosened the intricate metal comb shaped like a dove. Golden hair cascaded down her shoulders. Wisps tickled his face as he dared to kiss her again and again.

The door crept open eventually—Riesz’s doing, for Hawkeye found little reason to pry his hands away. She tugged him inside and he obeyed. Before diving back in for more, before he lost himself in her for an entire night, Hawkeye nudged the door with his heel for it to slowly close and click shut.


	4. Chapter 4

The gossamer curtain shifted in the gentle breeze. Warm sunlight trickled in, warding off the chill leftover from the night. It crept up the bed and across Hawkeye’s face. He winced, groaned, and burrowed deeper into the layers of blankets he claimed. For a moment, his eyes peeked open and he froze.

Blonde hair splayed everywhere, turned gold by the sun. Thin sheets clung to Riesz’s waist and she slept soundly, nestled into her pillow without a care in the world. And she tucked into Hawkeye, just as she had when exhaustion riddled their bodies, seconds before drifting to sleep.

Hawkeye smiled, reaching out to push her lovely hair behind her ear to better see her face. She didn’t flinch when his fingertips ghosted her temple and cheek. He could have stayed there forever if it meant witnessing her like that—serene and beautiful and content.

But he couldn’t help but kiss her bare shoulder, residual body shimmer from her evening’s attire lingering there and transferring to his lips. She stirred once he reached the patch of skin connecting her neck, jaw, and ear—a sensitive spot, if the previous night taught him anything.

Riesz stretched, yawned, and blinked her blue eyes open. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he murmured, unable to tear himself away. Not yet.

She pawed his chest. “You sleep well?”

“Next to you? How could I not?”

Tired laughter left Riesz. “This is nice.”

“What is?”

He kissed her skin and she struggled to reply.

“Waking up next to you,” she eventually said.

“Really?”

“Mmm. I could get used to it.”

“What if I already have?”

“Then—” She snaked arms around his neck and rolled onto her back, tugging Hawkeye down with her. “—that means you’ll need to visit more often.”

He loomed above, loving how their legs instinctively intertwined. “Don’t I need some official invite from the queen or what not?”

She smoothed violet hair out of his face. “Consider yourself always welcomed.”

“What, no fancy ceremony declaring that?”

Riesz smiled. “I thought that wasn’t your thing.”

“Well… whatever makes your life easier and thus happier, I’m all for.”

“Then stay,” she said after a moment.

“For a little longer?”

“Mmm.” She brought him closer, his forehead resting against hers.

He licked his lips, brushing over hers, as well. “Hard to say no to you.”

“You _were_ quite eager last night.”

“Anything to please the future queen.”

“Some might consider that bribery,” she teased as the space between their lips disappeared.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he groaned before silencing them both with a deep kiss.

Her body rocked into his. Hawkeye closed his eyes. He never wished to taste anything again if it meant kissing Riesz every waking moment. A softness lingered in each motion of her lips. It convinced Hawkeye to savor her instead of consuming her in seconds. And with their stamina renewed, there was little stopping either of them from enjoying one another all over again—

An abrupt rapt shook the door.

Riesz hissed in air and jerked back. Hawkeye stilled himself against her.

“Please tell me I imagined that,” he muttered.

Another knock, accompanied by a stern, muffled voice. “Princess?” one of the guards called from the other side. “Princess, are you well?”

“You didn’t,” Riesz whispered.

“But the door’s locked, right?” he asked, a touch anxious.

She didn’t answer immediately and the doorknob turned and before Riesz shoved him and hissed with panic, Hawkeye barrel-rolled down the mattress, dragging blankets with him until he hit the floor and shoved himself under the bed.

“Oh, forgive me!” the guard said upon entering the room two seconds after Hawkeye secured his hiding place. “I-I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine,” Riesz assured her. “Just a long night, is all.”

Booted feet approached the bed as Riesz’s bare ones touched to the floor. “Your brother asked for you last night and we were unable to find you.”

“I must have retired by then. I apologize.”

“No need, princess. It was a tedious affair. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

A bout of silence, then, “What is it?”

“I hate to inconvenience you, princess, but the assembly with Nevarl’s leader and his council is in less than an hour.”

“An _hour_?” Riesz said and Hawkeye mouthed.

“Yes. We already had breakfast with the Nevarlan guests some time ago. Your brother said not to call for you, that you might have been busy preparing for later, but….”

“Ah, well… I suppose I should clean up and make myself presentable.”

“Should I bring some breakfast to your room, princess?”

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

The booted feet moved again, though not towards the door—she stopped right in front of Hawkeye.

“Shall I gather your bedding to be washed? The blankets are quite a disaster.”

Hawkeye held his breath. Said blankets were wound tight around his torso and legs. One tug of whatever peeked out from under the bed would bring him along with them. _Which is_ exactly _what all of us need right before a peace treaty talk or whatever we_ _’re doing. A foreign thief found under the future queen’s bed. Yeah, that’s going to go over great with the locals._

“Never mind that,” Riesz called out. “If I have barely an hour to get ready, I’d rather have my tea and breakfast before anything else.”

“Of course, princess.” She moved from the bed and Hawkeye breathed again. “I’ll send for a tray to be prepared for you immediately.”

“Oh, and could you send a tray to the quarters where the Nevarlan guests are? If any didn’t attend breakfast this morning, I’d like to make sure they’re not hungry before our meeting.”

The guard paused. Hawkeye wondered what puzzled, yet keen expression met with Riesz. “Understood, princess.”

Several more steps and the door closed. Bare feet rushed to his side. Riesz dropped to her knees and peeked underneath.

“You need to leave,” she said. “ _Now_.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he grumbled while squeezing out from under the bed.

While jumping to his feet, Riesz scrambled to scoop up his garments from the previous night, all scattered across the room. She shoved them into his arms and he staggered. Though when she yanked free the blankets to return to the bed, Hawkeye had yet to change into his clothes.

Riesz huffed. “What?”

His slight smirk spread into a grin. “Just enjoying the view.”

She stood there, only her long hair covering her, if at all. Blush colored her cheeks and she wrapped arms around herself, as if embarrassed. To that, Hawkeye laughed.

“You’re so cute when you’re coy,” he purred.

“Oh _stop_.”

“Would you want me to, even if you commanded me?” He inched closer, his lips over her ear. “Your Majesty?”

He caught her smiling despite swatting him. “You’re terrible.”

“That’s not what you said last—”

“Get dress already and—”

“Princess?”

No knock this time. The door gradually opened. A servant balanced a tray in her arms while nudging the door open with her back. In that time, Hawkeye managed to jump into his pants and a single jutti.

“Until later,” he whispered, stealing a kiss too quick for his liking.

Before Riesz replied, before the servant lifted her head—too busy ensuring nothing spilled from her unsteady arms—Hawkeye sprinted to the open balcony and leaped.

The castle overlooked a cliff, miles above the earth. Hawkeye flailed and grasped a baluster at the last second. He sucked in air as the cold stone scraped his palm, as the wind struck through him, as he listened to Riesz gasp.

“What is it, princess?” the servant said from within the bedroom.

“N-nothing,” Riesz said. “I just remember something.”

“Oh?”

“I-I never properly hung up my gown from last night.”

A pause, then. “Oh, here it is. Draped over a chair.” Another pause. “A seam ripped.”

“I must’ve been careless while I was undressing.”

Had Hawkeye not been occupied with not freezing to death, he would have snorted. _You weren_ _’t careless, but_ I _was._ His teeth chattered while he scouted for a suitable climbing path. _Which is par for the course at the moment._

As much as he enjoyed eavesdropping on Riesz explaining the oddities in her room and her disappearance from last night, Hawkeye focused on scaling the castle. He clutched jagged stones situated on an otherwise smooth exterior. Several times his footing slipped—he blamed the wind throwing him off-kilter—but he gripped for dear life and inched along.

Upon traversing two stories worth of stone, he discovered a balcony. He landed in the open space, rolling away in time to hide from guards patrolling inside. Of course the doors were locked, but the hairpin he wore—still tangled in his now unruly locks—doubled as a thief tool in a pinch. He made easy work out of the door, slipping inside unnoticed.

Hawkeye heaved out a sigh, happy to be out of the cold and Riesz’s room. No guards in sight, either. Tossing his kurta over his shoulder, he headed in the direction to the guest quarters.

And took a corner and nearly collided with Jessica.

He skidded to a halt, flailing for balance. “Jessica?!”

She reeled back, eyes wide. “Hawkeye?”

“What are—”

“Where have you been?!”

Her brows furrowed and Hawkeye lost several inches in height.

“First you never return to our room, then you don’t show up for breakfast, which is completely unlike you to—”

She fell silent as her gaze scanned over him. He tried to smile, albeit nervous.

Jessica gushed out a heavy sigh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Surprised about _what_? We run into each other all the time!”

“If you say so.” Jessica massaged both her temples while shaking her head. “I hope father doesn’t hear about this.”

“You don’t even know where I’ve been!”

She raised a knowing brow. “Please, Hawkeye, I can make an educated guess.”

He slumped in defeat. “Alright, fine. Can you at least help me get ready for this big deal meeting thing we’re apparently having today?”

“Funny you mention that,” she said, drier than the desert they called their home, “I was just heading there.”

“ _Jessica_.”

“Yes, I’ll help you.” She pivoted and groaned. “I swear, one of these days your antics are going to get you killed.”

“Well, lucky for us, today’s not that day.”

He followed her, smiling and waving to the occasional guard they passed—each one slowed their steps to eye the semi-nude Hawkeye wandering the castle. “Must be a Nevarlan thing,” was what they told each other.

But even that didn’t rouse laughter from him. He focused on Jessica, her blue hair fashioned in a loose braid, bouncing with her quick steps. Impatient, even. He had a knack for provoking her anxiety over the years.

_One of these days your antics are going to get you killed._

That echoed in Hawkeye. He recalled the perils he tossed himself in to ensure the necklace clutching her throat was removed. He recalled pushing himself each day, wanting nothing but her safe return.

He recalled what Riesz said of Elliot’s fate.

It clouded his mind, unaware of the servant they crossed paths with who brought a tray of tea, bread, eggs, and jam for him. He existed in that fog upon returning to their quarters, cleaning up as best as possible and easing into another custom kurta.

He stayed there, convincing himself all was well, only to be throttled to reality by a violent cough.

Jessica ceased taming his hair. She backed away from the bed and clamped both hands over her mouth to contain the coughing fit. The wet, dense sound ricocheted off the walls and in his head.

“I’m sorry,” she said between coughs. “There must be something in the air that—”

Hawkeye swept her into his arms. Jessica gasped, subtle tremors flowing through her with each suppressed cough. He buried his face in her shoulder and tightened his hold.

“Hawkeye?” she asked with a rasp.

“You were always good to me,” he murmured. “I was an orphan and you weren’t, but you treated me like we were always brother and sister.”

“Hawkeye, what’s—”

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever worried you. I’m sorry if I was ever an inconvenience to you or the guild. I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough to help you.”

Gentle hands cupped his face and brought him to meet Jessica’s gaze. No anger or confusion lingered on her features. Something else met him, something he couldn’t pinpoint—an emotion stuck between heartbreak and shock and elation.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, flicking away the tears he didn’t know he cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I’d rather have you here, annoyances and all, than live a life having never known you.”

He smiled, but it didn’t stop the tears. “You deserve better.”

“Oh, come now. What is this all about? Over a silly little cough? I’m fine, Hawkeye.”

_I wish that were true,_ he struggled to swallow down.

She smoothed a hand over his face. “Now then, let’s clean you up. Need to make sure you’re presentable, yes?”

He didn’t protest. And he silently vowed to uphold that as long as she lived.

* * *

“There you are.”

Jessica and Hawkeye slowed their stride and looked behind them. Donning an elaborate kurta and matching turban, Flamekhan approached them, hands loosely clasped behind his back. Hawkeye tried not to sigh, instinctively shuffling aside; no need for him to intrude on whatever discussion he wished to have with his daughter.

Then his sights turned to Hawkeye. “I’ve been looking all over for you this morning. And last night. Apparently, you’re a hard man to come by.”

Flamekhan had been looking for _him_?

“Did you become deaf since we arrived here?”

Hawkeye shot upright. “N-no. I heard you the first time.”

“Very well.” He turned to Jessica. “Please hurry along, my dear. Tell the council we will be there momentarily.”

She bowed. “Yes, father.”

They stood in silence as Jessica hurried down the hall. Hawkeye refused to breathe until Flamekhan spoke and he didn’t utter a word until Jessica disappeared around a corner.

Even then, Flamekhan pivoted and beckoned to Hawkeye while heading to a nearby alcove.

He smoothed his hands over his rich, golden kurta as he joined Flamekhan. “You, uh… wished to speak with me?”

Flamekhan gazed out the slit in the stone walls. “How many years has it been?”

Hawkeye tried not to make a face. “Um… since when?”

“Since I took you in.”

A mixture of confusion and rage brought a skip in his heart. He balled his hands into fists. “I wasn’t exactly keeping track, but I’d say at least a couple decades by now.”

Flamekhan sighed softly. “Too long, then.”

_What are you going on about?_

“Do you know why you’re here, Hawkeye?”

“Because you asked me to be here?” _Because Riesz needed me here._

“Good, the guards didn’t mention it.”

Hawkeye tilted his head. His fists loosened and his jaw softened.

“Few are aware of the plans we are to discuss at this meeting,” he continued, “but I must make you privy to such details before you are caught off guard.”

“What details?”

“Nevarl is struggling to survive. I’m sure you’re beyond aware of that. I’ve tried my best to make amends and support our people, but… the time has come where our efforts alone aren’t enough. I once swore never to ally with an outside nation again, but I must break that for the sake of our people’s future. Laurent has flourished for years in this mountain range when all logic said otherwise. They have technology aiding them in this venue, dating back to a previous era when Mana lied dormant. And if they can provide information for us to repurpose for Nevarl, that’s a step in the right direction.”

“And what do we possibly have that Laurent would want?”

“Eyes and ears across the world. They’ve holed up here long enough for most to regard them as a myth. The Mana in the wind provided protection, but it is gone. They have no choice but to open up and reveal themselves. Since their captain’s efforts, along with yours, in preventing the destruction of the world is global gossip, it would be difficult for them to maintain their anonymity.”

“So you want to offer them informants and border protection in exchange for tech?” Hawkeye crossed his arms and raised his brow. “That doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”

“There’s another side to this coin.”

“And?”

“That is where you come into play.” Flamekhan brought his intense stare to Hawkeye. “You are to succeed me when my time comes to depart this world.”

Hawkeye almost fell over. He almost threw up. He almost laughed until he did both of those.

“Is this some kind of _joke_?” Hawkeye asked, breathing out a nervous chuckle. “Because if it is—”

“Do I _look_ like I consider this humorous?”

Despite the thick beard and mustache covering his features, Flamekhan stood serious as ever. That alone brought a shudder through Hawkeye.

“But,” he began, choosing his words as if he traversed thin ice, “I’m not of noble blood. Well, we don’t exactly follow those traditions, per se, at least in comparison to Laurent and their royal line. Still, I’m not remotely close to the equivalent of—”

“You are.”

Two, simple words. They struck Hawkeye in the gut, depriving him of breath and thought. His composure faltered. Everything within him froze and shattered as Flamekhan’s voice echoed in his soul.

_I_ _… am?_

“For over two decades,” Flamekhan continued, “I have kept you in the dark. Out of spite, for reasons which were not your doing.”

Hawkeye wrapped tight arms around his form, anxious fingers twitching along his ribs. “What are you talking about?”

With a tremendous inhale, Flamekhan unraveled the truth. “Before you were born, before I was Nevarl’s leader, we allied ourselves with a nation which promised us prosperity. I had another daughter, then, before Jessica and Eagle—her name was Falcon. And when she discovered our new allegiance, she fought against it, claiming it was not for the greater good of the world, let alone our people. I was enraged with her treason. I disowned her. Our assassins hunted her down, but by then, she and her followers fled Nevarl.

“She hid well, somewhere in a remote corner of the world. But we pinned her and her husband down. I traveled with the scouts who discovered them and I swore to kill them, to set an example to never betray our people.” Flamekhan lowered his head and shook it. “I returned to Nevarl and claimed the deed was done, but the truth was I let her go, under the notion she was forbidden from Nevarl and be branded a traitor.”

Flamekhan brought his gaze to Hawkeye’s. “You were only an infant, then. It was the last thing she asked me to do. If she was to run forever, then so be it, but it was no life for a child. Honor dictated that I complied; a child is innocent in these matters.”

Hawkeye’s voice cracked in his dry throat. “You… you told me I was orphaned, that my parents were nobody of importance.”

“Because they were exiled, yes, but Falcon and her Sandarrow were far from insignificant. And she was right, in the end; the nation we allied ourselves with was greedy and used us as pawns. Many lives were lost in an effort to sever those toxic ties and costed us our reputation with surrounding nations. We should have never sided with them. No amount of power is worth sacrificing dignity.”

“Why keep me in the dark all these years?”

“To protect you,” Flamekhan added quickly, his voice garnering a defensive quality Hawkeye never witnessed before. “The guild knew who Falcon was and regarded her with disgust. If anyone had ever discovered the truth of your parents, who _you_ truly are… I can’t be certain we’d both be standing here having this conversation.”

He exhaled weak laughter. “And what ever became of them?”

Again Flamekhan’s eyes wandered. That was enough of an answer.

“You were six when spies returned with the news,” Flamekhan said. “I cannot say who ended their lives for I never found out.”

“And this was all because _you_ decided to play coward and side with a stronger nation, regardless if their ways conflicted with—”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened. He held his breath. Pain rippled through Flamekhan’s features. Hawkeye regarded him with pity, recalling when they reunited, after Flamekhan shook free from what he called an odd dream. But it was no dream. Had Flamekhan ever come to that conclusion?

Did it keep him awake at night, overcome with shame and dread?

“I have done _many_ things wrong,” Flamekhan admitted. “I only aim to amend them now before I leave this world. Opening our doors to foreign nations was my first intention, which hadn’t worked in Nevarl’s favor in the past, but—” He paused, as if reminiscing. “—there was something to be said for Falcon and her actions. She was right; we must value peace above all else. Straying from that path will only lead to more violence and hate. She was willing to abandon her family and home for the sake of that.” His lips quirked. “She’d be proud to know you carry that quality.”

“What?”

“That impulsive righteousness you refuse to outgrow.”

Unsure whether to be offended or amused, Hawkeye held his tongue.

“And that’s what Nevarl needs now and forever,” Flamekhan continued.

“But what about Jess—”

“You and I both know Jessica isn’t well.” His serious demeanor melded with gloom. “She would be a kind leader, but I fear her days are numbered. Besides, she would want this—for you to take my place. Falcon came before her _and_ Eagle; your claim to lead Nevarl and the guild is far deeper.”

Hawkeye shook his now throbbing head. “But you said it yourself—the people are aware you banished your _own daughter_. What’s to say they won’t backstab me, the son of a traitor?”

Beneath his thick facial hair, Flamekhan smiled. “You’ve done more in the past year than the entire guild has done its entire lifetime. If the Goddess of Mana deemed you worthy of protecting this world, then anyone who disagrees is an idiot, plain and simple.”

Releasing a tremendous sigh, Hawkeye rubbed his neck. This was real. Furthermore, this bottled within the man he encountered daily, who removed him from his true family. Hawkeye believed it was done out of arrogance and dominance. Now he reconsidered.

Just as Flamekhan reconsidered his own errors for the sake of their future.

“Which is why,” Flamekhan proceeded, “when we meet with Laurent’s council, I am to introduce you as my heir and you are to _not_ do anything to make me regret that announcement.”

Hawkeye made a face. “Yeah, not to worry, gramps.”

Flamekhan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least you are in good standing with the princess. You _did_ fight alongside her to save this world. That’s a boon to this new alliance—mutual kinship makes these processes less tedious and—”

A gasp skittered in Hawkeye’s throat. Riesz. He almost forgot what she mentioned the previous night. That morning, as well. And he dismissed whatever chance they had together outside of borrowed time all because—

“Hawkeye?”

Laughter exploded from him. He spun around, blinded by elation. He tugged Flamekhan into a brief hug, all while cackling with tears of joy welling in his eyes.

“Have you lost your mind?” Flamekhan hissed.

“Oh, quite the opposite!” He dried his eyes and grinned. “No, this is good. This is _great_. Might dare to say it’s perfect.”

Flamekhan lifted a bushy eyebrow. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing. No, in fact, everything’s already fallen in place. This was just the last piece.”

Flamekhan regarded him with a stern, yet curious stare. “Should I be worried?”

“No.” Hawkeye’s hysterics calmed down and he rested a tender hand on Flamekhan’s—his _grandfather_ _’s_ —arm. He smiled and struggled to breathe. His heart hammered in his throat, yet the words flowed like silk. “Everything’s going to be fine. Nevarl will never have to worry or want again. You’ll see.” He released Flamekhan’s arm and marched on. “I promise.”

* * *

The tall, double doors opened into the war room. Laurent’s council ceased whispering and turned to the parting doors. Jessica was there alongside the few informants who accompanied the Nevarlan caravan. Opposite of her was Elliot and his collection of guards.

Not far from him was Riesz, dressed in her military threads.

Hawkeye ignored everyone but her. Flamekhan voiced his apologies for their tardiness while Hawkeye wove through the people to reach Riesz. Her blue eyes scanned him and a familiar blush blossomed on her face.

“First off,” she whispered to him while the group crowded around the oval table covered in maps, letters, and blank parchment, “where have you been? Second off, you left a shoe behind.”

He answered with a smile. They lingered in the rear as formalities were spoken by their peers. No one would bother to look to him. Not yet.

Thus he leaned into Riesz, his breath tickling her neck, and spoke for only her.

She hitched her breath gently. Her glossy eyes widened. She looked to him, wearing the same confusion he had moments ago.

But he eased his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand. Then she reciprocated. Finally, despite the few tears rolling down her face, she smiled.

So long as she did, he would be happy until the day he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye's heritage is based on the events in Heroes of Mana ♥


End file.
